


Illegally Blonde

by magical_woodchips_of_death



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Always, Angst and Humor, Fluff and Angst, Jehan is just perfect, Kinda Crack, Kinda bad, M/M, Saw some posts and just had to write?, and Jehan is always perfect, because he is Jehan, idek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-30
Updated: 2014-03-30
Packaged: 2018-01-17 14:41:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1391473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magical_woodchips_of_death/pseuds/magical_woodchips_of_death
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pretty much Grantaire makes a bunch of jokes and then they make out</p>
            </blockquote>





	Illegally Blonde

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kelbelstiel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kelbelstiel/gifts).



> SORRY I CAN'T FIND THE POSTS THAT I KINDA STOLE THESE JOKES FROM BUT JUST SO YOU KNOW I TOOK THEM FROM PEOPLE WHO ARE ACTUALLY FUNNY.
> 
> So if you are one of those magically perfect people who came up with these please tell me so that I can be all "THIS IS THE PERFECT PERSON"
> 
> Also please feel free to comment and show me where I done goofed.

“Grantaire!” Enjolras shouted from the front of the room, “Could you be serious for just five minutes so that we can actually get some work done?”

 

Grantaire grinned up at Enjolras from his seat at the back table of the Musain. “Aw, but where’s the fun in that?” Grantaire asked before taking another drag from his bottle.

 

Enjolras huffed at Grantaire angrily. “Grantaire,” he said, “The point of this meeting is not to ‘have fun,’ but to actually get some work done!” Grantaire just laughed and took another drink. “And for God’s sake would you but that damn bottle down!’ Enjolras finished, slamming his fist on the table, startling the others who had been watching the two silently.

 

“As you wish, mighty Apollo,” Grantaire responded with a mischievous smile. Enjolras looked at the other man wearily as Grantaire stood from his chair and swept across the room.

 

Grantaire sat himself on the table in front of Jehan and crossed his legs, leaning back and staring at the bottle he was holding up in his hand. “Oh, Mr. Bottle, you’re such a failure,” he said in mock seriousness before winking at Jehan who tried to stifle a laugh as Grantaire slid off the table.

 

Grantaire made his was over to Éponine next, swinging his hips along the way. He wiggled his hips in front of Éponines’ face before settling in her lap. “I mean,” he started, “You’re just not as pretty as all the other bottles.”

 

Éponine rolled her eyes at Grantaire and grinned as he made his way to the front of the room where Enjolras had put his head on down on the table. Grantaire laid himself across the table and propped the bottle up on his knee. “I’ve had bottles that have lasted much longer than you,” he said, winking at Enjolras as he picked his head up off the table.

 

“Why?” Enjolras asked with an expressionless face. Grantaire grinned up at him in response.

 

Grantaire jumped up from the table in one smooth motion and placed one hand on his hip and pointing at Courfeyrac. “What do you call a rioting Enjolras breaking the law?” he asked with a serious expression.

 

“What?” Courfeyrac responded, looking up at Grantaire with a straight face.

 

“Illegally blonde,” Grantaire answered. Courfeyrac laughed so hard that he lost his balance and slipped out of his chair, causing the rest of the Amis who hadn’t already been laughing to crack up.

 

Enjolras continued to glare up at Grantaire as he jumped off the table and walked over to Bahorel. “So,” Grantaire said conversationally as he leaned up against the table, “Do you think the high and mighty Apollo will step down off of his throne and allow me to draw him like one of my French girls?” Bahorel slammed his bottle down on the table and laughed, throwing his head back and slapping a grinning Grantaire on the back.

 

Enjolras sighed, “Are you quite done?”

 

“Well,” Grantaire said, “I might have a few more up my sleeves. Hey, Bossuet! What’s tall, blonde, and red all over?”

 

Before Bossuet could respond, Enjolras stood from his chair and strode across the room, grabbing a hold of Grantaires’ wrist. “That’s all folks!” Grantaire called over his shoulder as the angry revolutionary dragged him from the café.

 

After Enjolras had led them outside, Grantaire had turned around to look up at him. “Hey, don’t take any of that the wrong way. It’s just been a long week with the elections and all and it looked like everyone could use some laughs,” Grantaire said. When Enjolras didn’t respond Grantaires’ friendly expression turned concerned. “Hey, seriously, I was only jok-“ Grantaire started to say before he was interrupted by a pair of lips covering his own.

 

Grantaire made a startled noise in the back of his throat and, after a moment of hesitation, closed his eyes, placing a hand on the back of Enjolras’ neck. When Grantaire felt Enjolras sweep his tongue across his bottom lip, Grantaire opened his mouth in a gasp and Enjolras took the opportunity to deepen the kiss.

 

At some point, Grantaire remembered that they both had to breath, so he pulled away and leaned his forehead against Enjolras’. After a few minutes of standing there, letting their breaths even out, Grantaire pulled back just enough to look up at Enjolras, ‘Where did that come from?”

 

Enjolras smiled at Grantaire, “You wouldn’t give me anytime to talk.”

 

Grantaire let out a small laugh and pulled Enjolras closer to him, “Well, if that’s the kind of response I get, I guess I’ll just have to interrupt you more often.”

 

At that, Enjolras just rolled his eyes and pulled Grantaire in for another kiss.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

“They’ve been out there for a while,” Courfeyrac said, looking at his watch, “I think we should go check on them, just to make sure they haven’t killed each other yet.”

 

Combeferre sighed and nodded his head. “Yeah, plus it’s getting pretty late, we should be getting home,” he said, packing up his notes and motioning for the others to copy.

 

The group walked out of the Musain, calling out goodbyes as they started their separate ways home, when Jehan stopped them. “Do you hear that?” he asked, tilting his head to the side. Everyone stopped talking and listened.

 

“What’s that?” Courfeyrac asked. The rest shrugged so he started towards the alley beside the café. As he glanced around the corner, he stopped dead in his tracks, his jaw dropping.

 

“Well, what is it?” Bahorel huffed after a minute.

 

“God dammit, Prouvaire!” Courfeyrac called out, “I owe you €50!” Everyone crowded around the side of the building to peek into the alley. Grantaire was pushed up against the side of the building, holding Enjolras, whose legs were wrapped around his waist, up as they kissed in the alley way.

 

The group walked away grumbling quietly as they all passed money to a smiling Jehan.


End file.
